


Enhanced Interrogation Techniques

by c_r_roberts



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_r_roberts/pseuds/c_r_roberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>FBI Agent Peeta Mellark and his team have been working the case of Seneca Crane’s murder for months.  He finally catches a break, bringing his young, attractive widow, Katniss Everdeen, in for questioning.  She’s a little bit more than he bargained for. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Written for PiP Day 5: Peach Blossom: I am your Captive</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Rated M for sexual content.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enhanced Interrogation Techniques

Agent Peeta Mellark stares through the two-way mirror and adjusts the gun in his holster subconsciously as he eyes his suspect. One of her hands is handcuffed to the table, and she sits perched in the uncomfortable metal chair with her legs crossed pointed in his direction. The other hand is placed at the back of her neck, holding her long dark hair in an untied pony tail. The smooth, olive skin of her tanned legs glimmers from what is most likely the unnatural warmth of the room; kept at a balmy 78 degrees. She’s still wearing the pencil skirt and white overcoat she had on at the lab when his team arrested her this morning. She’s the same age as him—26. He’s read her file front to back ten times—twice just this morning. She’s also quite possibly the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.

Suddenly, she turns her head towards the mirror and cocks her head, expectantly. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she was staring right back at him.

Peeta tries not to jump as he’s clapped on the back.

“She’s all yours, Mellark.”

Peeta turns to face Agent Gale Hawthorne, his partner, who’s just finished booking and processing their suspect.

“I played it good cop, just so you know.”

Peeta sighs inwardly. That would make him bad cop. He’s much better at being good cop, but guesses he could use the practice.

“Did she give you anything of value?” Peeta asks, tugging at his tie. Bad cops shouldn’t have such straight ties.

Gale raises an eyebrow. “When we arrested her, she was sitting at her desk with her feet up. She said she’d been waiting for us.”

When Peeta gives Gale a questioning look, he just shrugs. 

“We _have_ been working the case for 4 months.”

Right. She must have known she was a suspect.

And if they don’t break her now that they have her, there will no longer be a case. Peeta gulps.

“Bring us water in ten minutes,” he instructs Agent Hawthorne before pushing the heavy leaded door open.

She doesn’t react when he enters, only offering him a disinterested look.

“Ms. Everdeen,” he greets her with a nod, shutting the door quietly behind him. His heart picks up just looking at her, her big gray eyes staring back at him while her lips pout silently in response.

“I’m Agent Mellark,” he introduces himself, hoping he sounds confident as he pulls his badge out of his back pocket and places it on the table before he seats himself across from her.

It’s a small room, built specifically for this purpose—interrogations—with blandly painted walls and cheaply tiled floors. Anyone who knows anything about law enforcement knows that the mirror spanning most of the wall behind him is really just a mechanism for Peeta’s colleagues to have a front row view to what happens in here.

Katniss Everdeen says nothing in response. But she does drop her hair from her free hand, blowing upwards to replace the strands that fall in her face. She looks at him expectantly as she leans as far back in her folding chair as the wrist shackled to the table will allow.

“How are you today?” Peeta asks with a grin as he settles himself into his seat, scooting the chair closer to the table. He flips his blank notepad open, clicking his pen a few times as he places his elbows on the table top.

Katniss scowls at him. 

“I’ll put you down for a _could be better_ ,” he tells her, writing the date at the top of his notebook. It’s not really necessary, the notes he aims to take, since everything’s video-recorded by the camera in the black globe positioned directly above them in the ceiling, but there’s something he likes about the old-school feel of putting his suspect’s words down on paper. Plus it gives him something to do with his hands.

Peeta taps his pen against the pad a few times and then looks up at Katniss with another grin.

“Let’s start with the basics, right?”

When all he gets is the lethal gaze of her steely eyes in response, Peeta nods along.

“Okay. We’ve already established that I’m Agent Mellark and you’re Katniss Everdeen. He gives her a playful clap of his hands.

“Now why don’t we establish why you’re here?”

Peeta pauses for dramatic effect and Katniss holds up he shackled wrist to him with narrowed eyes.

“Is this really necessary?”

Peeta smiles.

“For so many reasons.”

Katniss rolls her eyes and slumps back in her chair. There are beads of perspiration on her forehead, but she does nothing about them.

“So,” Peeta begins, “Your husband of 2 years suddenly drops dead 4 months ago, of suspected poisoning.” Peeta watches her face closely, looking for any ticks or tells. “And you just so happen to be a botanist studying for your pathology degree.”

Katniss gives him nothing. Well, she makes him swallow hard when she licks her lips as he talks, but Peeta doesn’t think that counts.

“Your husband, you met him, how?”

He decides to try an open-ended question, seeing if he can engage her into a story.

But the beautiful brunette just sighs. And, as Peeta can feel the sweat building under his collar, he realizes it really is warm in here. 

Maybe he should’ve told Gale less time on that water delivery.

“Your husband was a pretty powerful man, was he not?”

Peeta watches as her eyes flicker, ever so slightly. He wonders what she could possibly be thinking. Sometimes it’s easy; you can read it on your suspect’s face. _Guilty. Remorseful. Proud._ Whatever it may be. But not her. With her, there’s nothing.

But he doesn’t back down.

“Listen, Ms. Everdeen. I can do this all day. You wouldn’t believe the amount of questions I have for you.”

She smirks.

“I don’t doubt the amount of questions you have, Agent Mellark.”

He stares, forcing himself to maintain his confident position as he resists the urge to lean in to her soft, knowing voice.

“It’s the answers I believe you’re lacking.”

Peeta half laughs, half sighs, shaking his head as he points his pen in her direction.

“You think you’re being cute right now, but I can assure you, Ms. Everdeen, it’s in your best interest to cooperate at this point.”

This draws at least an eyebrow raise out of her.

Katniss Everdeen adjusts her position in her chair, leaning forward and staring directly into Peeta’s eyes.

“I didn’t kill my husband, Agent Mellark.” Her words are devoid of emotion; cold and matter of fact. She appears calm and confident. She doesn’t blink.

The appearance of a great liar, Peeta thinks. She really is very good.

He nods, acknowledging she spoke, but not agreeing with her. Peeta realizes she’s come prepared for this interrogation, and it’s time to start peppering her with the facts. Bad cop style.

“Mr. Crane was 20 years your senior, correct?” He stares at her unforgivingly.

Katniss purses her lips and re-crosses her legs. “22 years. He was also great in bed.”

“And you met when you were a cocktail waitress, just a little less than 3 years ago?” Agent Mellark ignores her commentary, trying not to choke on his words as he continues on, appearing unflustered.

“It helped pay my way through grad school,” Katniss offers.

“Until Seneca helped pay your way through grad school instead?” Peeta asks her with a stern face, starting to get the feel for their tension-filled back and forth rapport.

“You could say that,” she shrugs. Katniss uses her free arm to brush her shoulders out of her lab coat, wriggling her upper body to allow it to slide down her shoulders, exposing her bare arms and collarbone.

“Can I at least take this off?” She asks him, annoyed, referring to the coat. “It’s so warm in here.”

“No,” Peeta tells her, without explanation. Without apology. His subconscious wants to kick himself for telling a very beautiful woman to keep her clothes on for him. 

She glares at him.

It helps when he remembers she’s a murderer, however.

“So, tell me how this sounds to you. A rich, older, powerful movie producer scoops you out of waitressing oblivion at 23 years old and marries you a year later. No kids, no other family, no will. Just you. And then a couple of years later, he drops dead on set. Just minutes after he drinks his daily mid-morning smoothie. A smoothie you implemented in his routine diet, correct?”

Katniss doesn’t even flinch before she answers.

“Seneca had high blood pressure. I was helping him regulate it.”

She shrugs her lab coat back over her shoulders, pulling it tightly around her despite the temperature as she watches Peeta carefully. It’s clear she’s defensive, and Peeta guesses she knows where this is going now. And she seems prepared.

Peeta leans back in his chair, watching Katniss Everdeen do a very good job of trying not to squirm. He knows she did it, he’s sure of it in his bones. Months on this case has revealed that she had the access, opportunity, and motive. And she’s gone about her life in the months after Seneca Crane’s death as if nothing happened. But she also did a very good job of covering her tracks, so while the FBI had enough to bring her in for questioning, without more, she’ll be a free woman after 48 hours.

And she isn’t exactly someone who’s going to crack easy and confess after a couple of hours of questioning. No, if he’s going to get any information out of her, Peeta’s going to have to do it bit by bit.

“You don’t say,” he smiles easily at her, still relaxed in his seat. “You know, working in a high stress environment myself, I should probably start looking out for my blood pressure too. What exactly went in that smoothie?”

Katniss rolls her eyes.

“If you wanted to swap recipes, you could’ve just called. You didn’t need to chain me to a desk.”

Their stalemate ends when Agent Hawthorne, likely sensing Peeta’s need for back up, enters the room baring cool, sweet water a few minutes earlier than scheduled.

Peeta watches Katniss stare at Agent Hawthorne, and tries to decipher the easy smile she gives him as he places the water bottles on the table for them. He opens hers for her before handing it off with a pointed look.

“You know, this will go much faster for you if you just play nice, Ms. Everdeen.” 

“You mean the two of you trying to pin my husband’s death on me?” She asks him sweetly, batting her eyelashes. She leaves the water on the table. 

Peeta feels a slight sense of relief, at least the good cop isn’t doing so hot with her either. He knows that that’s wrong; that he should just want to get her talking, regardless of who’s able to crack her. But he can’t help wanting to be the Agent who breaks Katniss Everdeen.

Gale leans over the table, invading her personal space. Peeta watches as he sips his water, grateful for the cool liquid trickling down his throat.

“Mam, your husband was poisoned. And if we can eliminate you as a suspect, then we’re that much closer to finding out his real killer.”

Ms. Everdeen seems unmoved by this, but she at least looks back at Peeta, as if considering him.

“So why don’t you give Agent Mellark a break, huh?”

Gale straightens, and he moves towards the door, but neither Katniss nor Peeta even acknowledge him. Out of the corner of his eye, Peeta sees him shake his head slightly, and Peeta knows Gale already thinks this is a lost cause. They’d decided earlier that instead of continuing to press Katniss Everdeen, if she gave them too much trouble, they’d go easier on her and turn the investigation into something else not about her. To at least keep her talking, thinking everything she tells them is benign. Because the last thing they want is her speaking up about wanting that lawyer she’s entitled to.

So Gale’s head shake is a signal to redirect the questioning.

Well, fuck. 

Peeta doesn’t want to back down yet.

Then again, looking into those gray eyes staring back at him across the metal table that separates them, Peeta’s pretty sure his suspect doesn’t want to back down either.

Peeta lets the silence linger a few moments as Gale shuts the door behind him quietly. He’s trying to figure out his next play, running through his mental playbook he’s learned throughout the course of his training, when she gives him a small yet knowing smile.

“Mango. Banana. Blueberries. Coconut water. Ice.”

She speaks each word slowly, deliberately. Her eyes narrow as Peeta’s lips curl ever so slightly.

Somehow he thinks this is a sign that he should trust his instincts and keep going, in spite of what Agent Hawthorne thinks. Besides, Gale probably wants Katniss Everdeen all for himself anyway. He’s not the most trustworthy of partners in that respect.

“See? Was that so hard?” Peeta asks her, scribbling the ingredients down on his notepad before pushing his chair back from the table. She’s watching him curiously as he stands up from his seat.

She shrugs in response as Peeta moves to the side of her table. Her eyes widen as he pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and rattles them at her, motioning towards her handcuff.

“It’s going right back on,” he warns, inwardly holding his breath as she relaxes her wrist to allow him access to the lock. Her skin is balmy, but smooth. “But you can take your coat off at least. Because it’s a fucking sauna in here,” he grumbles, tugging at his own shirt collar as Katniss watches him carefully after she’s unshackled. She holds her freed wrist in her other hand, twisting it instinctively.

“But, uh, hurry up about it, okay?” Peeta doesn’t move from her side, eyeing her warily. He wants her to know that if she gives in a little bit, he can give in a little bit too. Tit for tat. But also that he doesn’t have to be nice about it.

And then Katniss shrugs her lab coat off, exposing a sleeveless silk top that V’s at the neck, leaving the perfect amount of cleavage behind. She straightens it, pulling it up slightly, and sighs in relief as the jacket drapes over the back of her chair.

“Better?” Peeta asks monotonously.

She nods, and obediently holds out her left wrist for him. 

As Peeta handcuffs her to the desk again, Katniss pulls her long hair together so that it all drapes over her right shoulder, exposing Peeta to the crevice of her neck and collarbone as her head tilts with the movement. He tries hard not to fumble with the key.

“You know, it probably won’t help, by the way.”

Peeta raises an eyebrow as he finishes locking her back up, relieved to take back his seat a safe 4 feet away from her. It’s easy to see how she wrapped Seneca Crane around her finger so quickly; Katniss Everdeen has an intoxicating quality about her that makes her dangerous territory. More than dangerous. _Lethal._

“What won’t help?” He asks, glad to hear her still talking.

She shakes her head. “The smoothie.”

“For your blood pressure,” she explains when he stares at her blankly. “Seneca drank those almost every day for a year and still dropped dead of a heart attack at 47.”

Peeta furrows his brown in disbelief.

“You really think that’s what happened?’

“If I’m not mistaken,” Katniss says matter of factly, leaning forward, “That’s what the coroner thinks happened too.”

“Ms. Everdeen, the coroner’s official ruling was undetermined.”

Although she’s right, the coroner did think it was likely a heart attack. Too bad that doesn’t let her off the hook.

“I’m just saying, maybe some people are born to die young. We control as much as we possibly can and the rest of it’s out of our hands.” As she speaks, Katniss leans forward resting her elbows on the cool surface of the table and fiddles with the cuff on her wrist. But her eyes don’t leave Peeta’s.

He almost can’t believe his dumb luck; she shouldn’t be giving him this ammunition right now.

“That’s an interesting choice of words, Ms. Everdeen.”

“We all do what we have to do in order to move our lives forward after tragedy.” 

Peeta doesn’t let her turn this into a sad tragic love story narrative, however. He leans into her as well, a glint in his eye as he taps his pen against his still blank pad of paper.

“Tell me, why didn’t you take your husband’s last name when you married?”

Katniss sighs, annoyed.

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because I knew I was going to murder him two years after we married, so I figured, what’s the point? All that paperwork just wouldn’t have been worth the hassle, you know?”

She genuinely startles Peeta with her acerbic quip, and thrives off the alarm in his eyes. 

And then she laughs.

“That’s what you were hoping I’d say, right?” She shifts back in her seat, kicking her ankle back and forth, letting her high heel swing on the ball of her foot as she does.

Peeta swallows, hard.

“You realize this is not a game, Ms. Everdeen?”

“Yes it is!” She cries back at him, startling him again. Katniss sits straight up in her seat now, and her arms try to flail and she speaks, but her left arm defeats her, the chain jerking it back when she moves it too far.

“Look at you, you’re practically getting off on trying to get me to confess to some crime I didn’t commit. If you get me to say the right thing, or do the right thing, then you win. You probably even have some sick bet with your buddy Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome out there.” Katniss jerks her head towards the mirror behind him, indicating she knows exactly who’s watching. 

Her accusation pisses Peeta off. The tall, dark and handsome reference doesn’t help either.

“Fine! You want to know what I think happened? You want to know why you’re really here? You think you’re so smart, making it look like a tragic, untimely, natural death. But I know better, Ms. Everdeen. I know you cut back your husband’s blood pressure medication from the get go, telling him the chemicals are poison. Ironic, considering his ultimate cause of death, don’t you think?”

Peeta knows it’s going off the rail now, and Gale will probably burst through that door any second, but he doesn’t stop.

“And so you tell him there are natural remedies for his problems. He starts drinking vitamin and nutrient rich smoothies. Oh, and guess what, blueberries are high in antioxidants that help lower blood pressure. Throw some of those in there, too. To make it easy for him, you make the drink for him most days.”

Katniss’s eyes go wide at the intensity of his voice, and Peeta feels like he’s going to explode. He takes a deep breath, exhaling what feels like a puff of steam.

“And I will give you that, Ms. Everdeen. It was almost perfect. You _almost_ got away with it.” His voice is lower, but her look is still the same.

“Because you and I both know what looks exactly like a blueberry, right?”

His heart is racing and the sweat on the back of his neck goes cold. This is it. It happens here or it doesn’t happen at all. 

***

It doesn’t happen at all.

Gale stormed in seconds later. He immediately pulled Peeta from the interrogation room, telling him that was enough for the day. That they had another whole day’s worth of time to question her before they had to release her. That maybe the pressures of this case had gotten to Peeta too much and that he should take it easy, sleep it off, and come back well rested in the morning.

And that Katniss Everdeen had gotten too far under his skin.

That part is probably true.

Peeta trudges up the 3 flights of stairs to his one bedroom apartment after stopping for a drink at the corner bar on the walk home. He, like most Agents, lives within walking distance of their bureau. His words and her eyes replay in his mind as he does, and Peeta tries to shake them off, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

Gale’s right. He needs a real night’s worth of sleep. It’s been a few days since he’s gotten more than a couple of hours here and there.

So when Peeta reaches his apartment, he twists his key into the lock, simultaneously jiggling the knob, pushing the door open.

Instantly, he knows that something is off.

The lights that Peeta’s positive he turned off before he left fourteen hours earlier are on.

His senses heighten as Peeta instinctively switches back into Agent Mellark mode. 

It’s for good reason, too, because he’s genuinely stunned to see her standing at the end of his hallway when he looks up. He startles, freezing with one hand on the gun on his belt.

She laughs as she tugs the white lab coat around her body. They’re less than 10 feet from each other and Peeta can see the glint in her gray eyes from where he stands in the doorway.

“You didn’t think they’d _really_ hold me overnight, did you?”

Peeta’s mouth goes dry and he contemplates his next move.

Katniss Everdeen is in his apartment.

“How did…how did you—?” The words stumble off Peeta’s lips almost incoherently. He inches his way down his hallway, watching as she drops the coat to the floor.

She’s wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. Black, lacy, underwear. Well, and her heels. 

She literally takes his breath away.

She gives him a coy smile.

“You left your widow open.”

Regaining the ability to function, just barely, Peeta crosses the distance between them, his hand still on his weapon.

“My apartment’s three stories up, Everdeen.” He’s still not quite sure what to do with her, but he can’t leave her just standing there like that.

She shrugs, watching Peeta dislodge his holster from his belt and place his gun and badge on the small breakfast bar they’re standing by in the open area of Peeta’s apartment.

“I’m agile.”

He gives her a sly grin and stands in front of her.

“You were great today,” Peeta tells her, giving her body the once over it deserves. His dick begins to rise, knowing she was wearing that beneath her clothing in the interrogation room.

Katniss reaches out and pulls him flush up against her by his still-crooked tie. He slips his arms around her slender waist as she does, her bare skin against him making him heady with desire.

“It was fun,” she agrees, wrapping the tie tighter around her hand. “I wasn’t expecting you to go bad cop on me.”

Peeta chuckles and brushes the hair off her face, staring into the same determined eyes that frustrated him so much earlier. She had really been an unexpected plot twist, and he was sure Special Agent Abernathy put her there in an effort to deliberately throw him off his game.

“Trust me,” he whispers in her ear, feeling her tense to attention. “You haven’t seen me go bad cop on you yet.”

He groans as her free hand moves to his crotch, pressing against his length trapped in his dress slacks. She uses the tie as leverage and pulls his mouth on hers, hungrily kissing him. Katniss’s lips are warm and soft against his, which are dry and chapped from the brisk walk home. She tastes like real lipstick, and it probably smears all over his own lips, but it’s such a difference from the mint chap stick she usually wears that he doesn’t mind.

“Mmm,” he breathes, pulling away and cupping her cheeks in his hands as he grins at her. Katniss’s hand rests on his belt buckle, and she fiddles with it as he speaks.

“Did Abernathy put you up to this?”

Her eyes go wide and she makes a face, dropping her hand from his waist, horrified.

“To _this_?”

Peeta laughs again and pulls her back into his arms, his hands lingering on her lower back at the edge of her panties.

“No,” he tells her, giving her ass a light tap. “Playing the suspect. I knew he’d come up with some way to fuck with me.”

Katniss’s face breaks into a sly smile and she shakes her head devilishly.

“Oh no. Fucking with you was all my idea.”

_Oh._ Of course it was. She’s been trying to get the best of him since they arrived at Quantico 20 weeks ago. They’ve been competing for top scores throughout the entire training period.

“But Abernathy was all for it,” she continues. “He said it’d be good to throw you a few curve balls, since you’re always so well prepared.”

Katniss tugs at his tie around the collar, loosening it enough to slip it over his head. She doesn’t break his eye contact, dropping the material carelessly to the floor.

“Plus it’s such a turn on to watch you work.”

Peeta licks his lips, not quite believing this girl is in front of him right now. Her brunette hair cascades over her shoulders and she chews her bottom lip as her eyes move to his chest, concentrating on unfastening the tiny buttons of his shirt.

Abernathy was right. Finding her sitting in his interrogation room this morning as the sexy, poisonous widow he was supposed to question was one hell of a fucking curve ball. 

Katniss Everdeen. The other ace of his FBI academy class. The girl he should hate because she’s so effortlessly good at everything, but he can’t help but want to bow at her feet. The girl who’s already finished her final training tests and is now just biding her time, apparently by role playing suspects for the other agents in training. They usually just hire actors.

She’s also the girl he’s been sleeping with for three weeks now.

He wonders if Special Agent Abernathy would have done this to him if he had known about that.

Peeta watches her get through three buttons, amused by the look of concentration on her face, before he grows impatient and hungrily captures her mouth again. He begins to walk forward, taking small, clumsy steps that force Katniss to backpedal, all in an attempt to steer her towards his bedroom. Her hands are still working the last buttons as his tongue explores her mouth and the ache in his groin turns into a dull throb. Preoccupied, their direction isn’t the best and they end up backed up against the wall, a good three feet from the door frame.

This will do too.

Katniss frees the last shirt button, splaying her hands over the bare skin of his chest as she pushes the fabric eagerly off his shoulders. Peeta breaks their kiss just long enough to shrug the shirt off, ripping it from his arms and tossing it behind him.

Katniss’s eyes darken and she pulls him back to her, her small hands clinging to his back as he falls against the wall with her, his arms trapping her as he supports himself. Peeta regains his footing and ducks his chin to find her pulse point on her neck, sucking gently. She throws her head back with a soft thud against the drywall, and a moan escapes her lips when he palms her breast over the lacy fabric of her bra.

“The handcuffs were a nice touch, by the way,” she whispers in his ear, squirming slightly as he nips the delicate skin under her chin. Peeta’s dick bounces at the heat of her breath on his ear as well as the implication of her words. He could barely contain himself in that room earlier today, watching her role play with him, bound to that table under his lock and key. Dressed in that fucking outfit, silky and tight, so different from the usual suits and collared shirts she wears as her uniform. 

Peeta’s hand moves from her breast, trailing down her taut abdomen, to the edge of her panties. He moves the fabric aside, swirling a finger along the lining of her lips, encouraged by her sharp intake of breath. He buries his face in the crevice of her neck, alternating between sucking and blowing gently as he plays with the pressure point of her bundle of nerves, loving the mewling sound that escapes her lips.

His erection pushes against her inner thigh as his fingers nimbly work their magic. When he can’t wait any longer and dips one inside of her, he’s greeted with her warm heat lubricating his fingers for him.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he groans against her mouth as he captures it for greedy kisses.

Katniss closes her eyes, her breathing hitched as Peeta begins to pump her, inserting a second finger easily. Her right leg latches around the back of his, allowing her leverage to gyrate softly against his hand.

“Maybe you should interrogate me more often,” she murmurs, moving both hands to his belt and tugging at it blindly, still unable to open her eyes. But Peeta can’t take his eyes off of her, and her face contorts as he pulls his fingers out to refocus on her clit. Instinctively, he uses his free hand to forcefully pull her hands off his belt, easily able to grab both wrists, palming them together as he moves them above her head. He leans his forearm against them to keep them there, rendering her helpless, and her eyes flit open in surprise. She jerks forward instinctively, but he shakes his head at her, letting her know he’s in control. Katniss’s eyes show her understanding before she closes them again, relaxing against the wall as Peeta feels her heat build at his work. 

Peeta continues to study her face, as he works an intense rhythm in and out of her walls with his fingers. He’s pleased with himself, watching her jaw go slack as he picks up his pace.

“Ohh. Fuck, Peeta,” she moans softly, and her hips jerk as she gets close to her release. Peeta kisses her hard as he feels her begin to vibrate against his touch. Katniss kisses back with a matched forcefulness, only stopping in order to cry out his name again as her orgasm crests. 

When she opens her eyes, he greets her with a sly grin. Her cheeks flush, and she pants a few breaths as her breathing regulates.

Peeta removes the weight of his arm from her wrists, still pinned against the wall above her head, allowing her to drop them to her sides. His face softens watching her eyes drop to the floor shyly before she runs a finger along his exposed waistline, looking back up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

He does everything he can not to melt like the puddy in her hands that he knows he is.

“You were right to have kept pushing me in there,” she tells him, her gaze studying his eyes. Her head rests against the wall, her hair teased slightly as a result. Her fingers still linger just above his belt. 

“I would’ve done the same thing.”

Peeta chuckles softly, running a hand through his blonde hair, then scratching the back of his neck.

“Didn’t work though.”

Katniss laughs, reaching out for his hand, pulling it into hers before placing it on the silky smooth skin of her hip. Then she drapes her arms around his neck, forcing Peeta to lean in to her, their mouths a mere inch or two apart.

She kisses him softly then shoots him a knowing but apologetic look.

“I was told I wasn’t allowed to confess today, no matter what.”

Peeta shakes his head in disbelief. That has Abernathy written all over it; letting him spin his wheels when no matter what, he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. 

“Are you kidding me?”

Katniss shrugs with a glint in her eye. “It’s probably for the best.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why, because we get to do it all over again tomorrow?”

Peeta realizes he doesn’t exactly mind that idea.

His heart flutters as she laughs, and he thinks that he might just be able to get used to this. He loves the mix of their fire and their sweetness, and while he knows that while it absolutely should not work, nothing has ever felt so right.

But Katniss shakes her head with a coy smile. “No. Well, that doesn’t hurt either, but maybe beforehand, make sure your partner has actually read your suspect her Miranda rights first, ok?”

Peeta’s eyes go wide, instinctively rubbing them with his hands as he realizes how much of a fuck up that is. Not that it was actually his fault—Gale was supposed to have taken care of all of that before he came into the room. Peeta must have been preoccupied with finding out that Katniss was their actress for the afternoon, and he remembers going to the bathroom to gather himself before beginning the interrogation. Usually, he’d be watching as Gale set up their suspect in the room for him. But how the fuck did Gale forget the most basic, most important task of all?

So even if Peeta’d gotten a “confession” today, it wouldn’t have been any good because it couldn’t have been used against her in court.

Katniss laughs again, her eyes twinkling with amusement at Peeta’s realization.

“Oh my god, we’re so stupid,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” she reassures him. “I’m totally going to confess for you tomorrow.”

And then she tugs at his belt again, finally undoing it, along with the button and zipper of his pants.

He inhales sharply as she pushes the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs just past his penis, gripping his hardened length in her hand as she wiggles her hips out of her panties, stepping through them and leaving them on the floor beside her.

Peeta watches as she positions his tip at her entrance, and looks back up at him knowingly.

He swallows hard before hoisting her up by the back of her legs, closing his eyes with pleasure as they wrap tightly around his waist. They use the wall for balance as Katniss hangs on his neck and Peeta uses a hand to direct himself into her, hissing with pleasure as he feels her walls expand around him. Once he’s inside of her, he moves his hands back to the curves of her ass, his arm muscles burning as he supports her weight as they being to rock back and forth slowly.

It’s incredibly hot, as he thrusts into her while she practically sits on his dick. Her legs hang onto him for dear life and she buries her face into his neck, the vibrations from her soft moans absolutely wrecking him.

“You have to last a while first,” Peeta pants between thrusts, causing her to pull back and look him in the eye. 

“Before you confess,” he explains quickly, furrowing his brow in concentration. Although, quite frankly, he intends what they’re doing right now to last all night as well.

Katniss grins at him, motioning her head towards Peeta’s bedroom door.

He shakes his head. “No. I want you here.”

She looks surprised, but nods. And then she digs her fingernails into his back.

He grunts as she tightens around him, and his pace quickens as his hunger builds.

“I’m supposed to wait until you ask me about the berries again,” she tells him through labored breath, and Peeta can’t quite believe she’s instructing him on his interrogation technique as she’s riding him, but he allows it. It’s entirely against the rules to be collaborating like this, obviously, but it’s clear neither he nor Katniss cares about the rules right now.

She moans as Peeta changes the pace to slower, more deliberate thrusts. She feels fucking fantastic right now, and all he wants is for her to cry out in ecstasy.

Peeta leans into her harder, nipping at her ear. “So I’m supposed to ask you about that stunt with the berries, and that’s all it’ll take for you to tell me how you did it?” He growls the words into her ear, as his dick begins to pulse inside her, on the verge of his own release.

“ _Yes_ ,” Katniss hisses, throwing her head back, and it’s clear she’s more than answering his question. 

He can’t help himself. The build from earlier today gets the best of him, and he turns into Agent Mellark again, desperate for answers.

“So, Ms. Everdeen,” he purrs, fighting hard to hold on in order to allow her to catch up to him. “What’s lethal and tasteless and looks exactly like blueberries?”

Her eyes flicker with excitement and she squeezes her legs even tighter around him.

“Nightlock. It’s Nightlock.” she gasps, and her eyes roll back in her head. She cries out in pleasure, and then Peeta’s name tumbles from her lips as her body goes limp.

It worked.

They self-destruct together. Her walls quake around him, and he feels himself pulse as he spills into her, his body racking with relief as it happens.

“Fuck, Katniss, that’s so good,” he tells her, slowing to a stop but leaving his dick inside of her.

Her eyes dance as she grins, kissing him needily. He accepts her lips gratefully, wanting absolutely every inch he can get of her.

After a minute of heated, swollen kisses, Katniss breaks from him, sliding onto her own two legs, still wobbly from the workout he just gave her. She bites her bottom lip and looks up at him with those fucking beautiful gray eyes and the perfect mix of a shy, sly smile. 

“We should probably practice that again, right?”

Peeta grins knowingly at her, drinking in absolutely everything about her. He takes his time before answering, because when he’s asked later, he wants to be able to say that it’s this exact moment that he knew he was a goner.


End file.
